Unpredictable
by inigo imago
Summary: A famous Lily hides her feelings from everyone & secludes herself by using sarcasm, because she feels that people only like her for her fame; especially James Potter, who claims to love her. Lily’s ironic attitude makes this an original and fun read. R
1. Complications and Durations

'You may think you know someone, but you never really do. You may think you can trust someone, but you really can't. You may think you're in love with someone, but it's just a silly crush. I'm famous and that is the only reason James Potter loves me.'

**__**

Unpredictable

Chapter 1: Complications and Durations

__

It's something unpredictable

But in the end is right

I hope you had the time of your life

~Good Riddance (Time of your Life)

By Green Day

It is one thing to be sixteen and still dealing with hormones, but to be a _famous_ hormonal sixteen-year-old _witch_ is something entirely different, something I hope no one else ever has to go through. It's not like I even should be famous; I didn't make any special discoveries, or create a brilliant invention that would change mankind as we know it. I wasn't even an actress or a singer.

No, I was only me, Lily Evans, a part of the first family ever to be attacked by the dark wizard, Lord Voldemort. I didn't see what the big deal was. I felt it was only an excuse for people to go around and pity some poor orphan, so they could distract themselves from realizing that the whole wizarding world was in a tribulation. Which was entirely correct, unfortunately; maybe if people had paid enough attention, something could have been done before thousands of more lives would be killed in the years to come.

It started in the summer just before I entered my third year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the most prestigious magical school in Britain. Petunia, my elder sister, though I dearly hate to admit it, had been bribed into taking me out for ice cream so our parents could get some work done. You would think that when we returned our house would be in flames and our parents would be dead on the floor, like in all the other stories of such murders; but no, clichés never happen in reality. There were visitors in our house, all dressed in black robes, and Mum and Daddy were talking to them in the living room.

Daddy excused himself when he saw us, saying he had to put us to bed, and it was then that I knew something was wrong. We were never forced to go to bed at 7:30 at night. Daddy grabbed my arm and pulled me upstairs, Petunia in tow; he led us into the attic, and made us get in a dusty closet, which I wouldn't be surprised if it had been full of spiders and other creepy insects.

'Daddy, what are you doing?' Petunia hissed. 

'Now I want you two to _stay in here_,' he whispered hurriedly, and tears formed in my eyes; my nerves were confirmed, there _was_ something wrong. 'Do not move until I come to retrieve you, all right? If--if I'm not back within an hour, sneak into Petunia's room and down the fire ladder. Understand?'

Petunia and I nodded.

'I love you girls. So does your mother. We always will.' He closed the door, the last I saw of the man who had raised and cared for me.

Petunia and I both had a silent comprehension of what was going on by then. We waited five minutes, ten, twenty… One whole hour. I was about to leave when I felt Petunia grab me back, and that's when I heard it.

The visitors were below us, in our parents' bedroom. I could tell by the sounds of their voices and the slamming and crashing noises, as if things were being hurled out of the way and doors thrown open, that they were looking for us. 

They never did find us, or even find the attic door, but it was seven hours after the cloaked men left that my sister and I had finally enough nerve to leave.

Luckily, I had no visible wounds from the incident. True, most people recognized me, because my face was in the papers for months afterwards. And those who didn't soon realized who I was by my appearance, which nearly everyone knew me for; because, let's face it, there aren't a whole parade of witches marching about with red hair and green eyes. If they didn't know me by appearance, they certainly knew me by name.

It's strange how things like that can change your life in ways you would never expect. I was depressed for my whole Fourth Year, but I think I would rather have been in a depression than what happened to me in Fifth Year. It soon came to my attention that people were suddenly noticing me. Not that I hadn't been noticed before, I was actually pretty popular, but now people whom I had never talked to in my entire life were coming up to me and acting as though they were the greatest friends.

It was obvious. They were trying to get me to like them, just because I was famous. I stopped trusting, I stopped socializing; I stopped doing everything that had anything to do with confronting and talking to people. I pushed everyone away, and the only person that I still kept close was my best friend, Elizabeth Franks, who had stayed by my side before the murder, during my despair, and every day afterwards. 

From then on, my life revolved around three simple rules:

You may think you know someone, but you never really do.

You may think you can trust someone, but you really can't.

You may think you're in love with someone, but it's just a silly crush.

I added the last one because there was one certain boy who could not get the hint that I was not a people person. A certain boy with messy black hair, framed blue eyes, and Captain and Chaser of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. A certain James Potter, who had claimed he loved me so many times, that I expected no other words to come out of his mouth while he was around me.

Most said that we were perfect for each other, that he was my "soul mate". Or a pathetic stalker, as I liked to call it. But you see, I knew the truth--I knew that he did not love me, Lily Evans, for whom I really was. No. That wasn't it at all.

It was very hard to think so, because of the stupid things he did to prove his devotion. He asked me out to Hogsmeade several times, but I refused. He sent me small gifts and candy, but I laughed. He then publicized his feelings by screaming it at Quidditch games, writing it on the walls with magic in the Great Hall, standing suddenly in the middle of class and announcing it to everyone; I found it cute, but I knew it wasn't the truth. Which is why I woke up every morning and convinced myself by saying:

'I'm famous, and that is the only reason James Potter loves me.'

Nearly everyone thought I was absolutely mad to decline James Potter's offers; according to them, James Potter was _James Potter_, and his feelings should always be taken into consideration. But I certainly couldn't give a damn.

Another strange thing about me is that I completely hide my feelings from everyone, even Elizabeth. I'm quite good at it, mind you. I use a sarcastic and spunky façade to hide all of my emotions, and all my classmates (excluding Elizabeth, although I appreciate her pretending so) think I've returned to my normal gingery self.

Oh, if only they could know the truth…

It was almost as hard to keep my feelings from Elizabeth as it was to tell myself James Potter didn't love me. She knew me better than anyone else, especially since I stayed with her during summer holidays, but I proved my courageousness once again by blocking her out with a good quipping argument.

'You look like a candy cane,' she said one morning, after I was feeling especially needy to break down and tell her everything.

'Good, that's the look I was going for.'

'Really?'

'No.'

'I didn't think so.'

'I appreciate your help, Liz.'

'Anytime.'

'I was being sarcastic.'

'I know.'

'Sure you did.'

'So what do _I _look like?'

'Um…'

'Something blue and yellow?'

'Exactly the words I was looking for.'

'I knew it. I can read minds, you know.'

'Oh, so you're a Seer now?'

'No. Just very smart.'

''Could've fooled me.'

'Shut up, Santa Clause.'

'Now you're saying I'm a fat man with white hair and a beard, that goes around in a bright red suit?'

'No. Just saying only someone with hair like yours could pull off a look that… Christmas-y.'

'Thanks for your intellectual input.'

'What are friends for? Now, if you don't mind, I'm going down to the Great Hall before breakfast is over. You coming?'

'I'll be down in a moment.' 

I turned to my mirror, scowling at my reflection, after she left. I _did_ look awfully like a holiday treat. I was wearing my red and white striped night clothes, and with my strawberry blonde hair, I couldn't help but agree with Liz. I looked horrible, despite Liz's comment the night before, claiming I looked "magically delicious"--and that was before the invention of Lucky Charms, mind your Ps and Qs. She, and almost everyone else I knew, said I was pretty, or more commonly expressed as gorgeous, but I personally thought I was about as good-looking as Petunia's slim face, which had an uncanny resemblance to an ugly horse.

I stripped off my pyjamas and pulled out jeans and a cute sweater--despite what you may think, I did have _some_ fashion sense--and quickly tugged them on. I slipped on my sneakers and ran down the steps, only having ten more minutes until breakfast was over. I was about to run out of the Common Room when I felt myself fully collide with something solid and hard.

'OW!' I cried, falling to the ground and landing on my arse.

'Oh, sorry!'

I looked up and saw James Potter himself, smiling down at me (I didn't even want to think about why), his hand outstretched to help me up.

''S okay,' I grumbled, grabbing his hand and standing. 'Just watch where you're going next time, alright?'

'Yeah,' he said, running his hand through his hair nervously. 'I was just trying to hurry…breakfast is almost over.'

'Me too,' I said. James smiled wider, but I kept my face indifferent; I could feel myself becoming sardonic, as if on instinct. 'Well you're going to miss it if you keep standing there.'

'Not that I'll be able to eat, I'm too nervous about the Quidditch game and all, but why don't we walk together?'

'Why should we?'

'Dunno… it was just a suggestion.'

'And that was just an answer.'

'You're awfully bantering, aren't you?

'You think so?'

'Yes.'

'Good for you.'

'Thanks…I guess.'

'Sure. Now, if you don't mind me, I'm going down to breakfast.'

Before waiting for an answer, I ran out of the portrait hole and kept running until I reached the doors of the Great Hall, with only five more minutes 'till the end of breakfast.

'Hey! Where've you been?' Liz asked me as I took a seat at Gryffindor Table. While I was fortunate and didn't look like a candy cane anymore, she was still clothed in a puffy and frilled blue dress; and with her blonde hair, she still looked like something blue and yellow. 

I inwardly made a face at her own clothes, pitying the girl. It wasn't _her_ fault her family was of a _very _high-class, and she was forced to wear atrocious things…

I shrugged. 'Got held up by Potter.'

I noticed her interest perked at once. 'What did he say?'

I shrugged again, helping myself to the last blueberry muffin. 'Nothing much.'

'Oh.'

I may be thick-headed sometimes, but I'm not stupid, and I definitely saw the sidelong glance she threw my way.

'So,' Liz said, changing the subject, 'are you coming to watch the Quidditch game?'

'Hm…' I pretended to think for a moment. 'Well, since I usually go to _all the games_…' I said pointedly. I hated Quidditch. I never went to any games, I never cheered on any teams, and I never wanted to hear about them afterwards.

'C'mon, Lily!'

Liz wasn't stupid either.

'You never go!'

'Exactly my point,' I said. At that moment James Potter joined the table, a few feet down with the Marauders, and I stared determinedly at my plate as I felt his eyes flick towards me.

The Marauders included him, James, and his three best friends: Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew. They were so many things of Hogwarts that sometimes I wish I could bash them over the head senseless, so just for a moment they would forget who they were, and could be average Sixth Year Gryffindors--for they were the pranksters, the most-wanted, the players, the hottest guys, the most popular, the smartest, the most talented, the funniest, the cleverest, they were nearly everything. And I hated them all, just because my internal disguise made me do so.

The bell rang and everyone filed out, heading towards the Quidditch Pitch for the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff game. I told Liz that I would be spending time in the library while she was gone, and she could find me in there when the game was over.

I grabbed my bag from the dorm to bring with me, so I could finish a Potions essay that was due on Monday. I was heading down the stairs when I heard James's voice in the Common Room. Must he _always_ be around when I was trying to leave Gryffindor Tower?

Although I still hated James Potter with a passion, I liked him best when he was with his friends; he acted the exact opposite as when he was with me. He didn't get that funny look in his eyes--which he called love, and I called stupidity--but they held a childlike curiosity and a sense of mischief, which he was well known for within the walls of Hogwarts. He joked and he laughed, and he didn't give the slightest care as to what people thought of him; I hated when he tried to act perfect when he spoke to me, as if trying to impress me, which he could never do. He loved to play pranks and fight with Severus Snape, a 6th Year Slytherin whom none of us liked, and Snape's Slytherin friends. Yes, _that_ was the James I somewhat liked, not the lovesick puppy that turned into puddles when he saw me.

Taking my chances, I walked down the stairs and towards the portrait hole, pretending like I didn't see them. Unfortunately for me, not one solitary member of the Marauders was that stupid. In fact, that were actually quite smart.

'Hey Lily!'

I stopped in my tracks. I couldn't just ignore them when they had obviously seen me, that was entirely too rude, even for me. At least it had been Sirius Black who called out, and not James.

I slowly turned around to see that they had been headed towards the portrait hole, too.

'Hi,' I said. 'Shouldn't you be down on the Quidditch Pitch? The game's starting soon.'

'We were just coming up here to fetch James's Quidditch robes, he forgot them,' said Remus Lupin; I liked him the best. He was so subtle that I couldn't help it. And because he was relatively the first one to speak to me, I grew irritated at once that my derisive cover-up didn't appear at once. 'Besides, we could ask you the same thing.'

'I don't like watching Quidditch games,' I said, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice. 'Besides, I have to finish an essay.'

'Trying to become Head Girl?' said Peter Pettigrew. I disliked him the most--just something about him ticked me off. 'Only someone who worked _that_ hard would want to.'

'No,' I snapped. 'I'm a Prefect, and what good example would I be showing if I didn't get good grades?'

'James doesn't work hard,' said Sirius. 'He's a Prefect, too.'

I shuddered, remembering the nightmares I had had for weeks after finding out that James would be a Prefect alongside me. Still, my temper was gradually rising. 'Well he's naturally smart--things just come so easily to him, because he's so bloody clever!'

It wasn't until Sirius, Remus, and Peter broke into grins and James's face turned as red as his robes that I realized my mistake. My mouth dropped open but I quickly covered my embarrassment by barking, 'You perverts! Get your mind out of the gutter! I DO NOT LIKE JAMES!'

I felt my own face heating up and I ran from the Common Room before anyone else could get another word in.

Oh Merlin's beard was I going to hear it when Liz came back…

****

A/N: I hope you liked it! This is my very first fic, so be nice. J This is going to get better and make more sense sooner or later, I promise.

Love always,

Lily-White


	2. Rumours and Bert Skeeter

****

A/N: Hello! Thank you for the reviews. J I worked hard to take your advice and apply it here. I also tried to make Lily's fame a little clearer. I'm not exactly sure what a Mary Sue is lol, so could I get a little guidance to avoid that? I don't want this to turn out a horribly disastrous fic. Thanks again!

This time, for some reason, I found it incredibly hard to keep Lily in the same character as I portrayed her in the last chapter. So sorry if she's a tad off, I've never written anything like this before and I'm still getting used to it.

**__**

Unpredictable

Chapter 2: Rumours and Bert Skeeter

__

It's something unpredictable

But in the end is right

I hope you had the time of your life

~Good Riddance (Time of your Life)

By Green Day

Other than the time of my parents' death, I had never felt even remotely murderous. I was actually usually calm and collective, and could control my anger easily enough. But Sirius Black was pushing me to that point, and he was pushing me fast.

Don't get me wrong, I really don't mind what other people think of me. They have their opinions, and I have mine. _But_, when it involves the messy haired boy that I refuse to notice, I think it's getting a bit too personal. And it was taking everything I had not to let my fist get too personal with Sirius's face.

'Sirius, sweetheart?' I called innocently across the room, where I presumed he was telling a group of Seventh Years about the latest scoop on Monsieur James and moi.

His head snapped up and I could easily tell what was going through his mind. '_Did **Lily** just call me **sweetheart**_?'

'Yes, Sirius, I called you sweetheart, now get your fat arse over here!' I snapped.

A look of realization dawned on his face, and he made his way cautiously over to my table.

'Yes, sugar muffin?' he said, nervous but forcing sickly sweetness.

'So, I hear I fancy James Potter now, eh?'

I was pulling a sarcastic Lily and he bloody well knew it.

'Really? I heard that too!'

'What a coincidence!'

'Yeah, what!'

'Looks like Hogwarts has it's own personal journalist, doesn't it?'

'Looks like it.'

'I'd really like to meet him or her, do you know who it is?'

'Um…nope! Not a clue.'

'Oh, what a pity. I had a surprise for whoever it was.'

'Really?!'

I inwardly laughed; I _knew_ that would get him.

'Yup. Looks like I'll have to keep it all for myself, then.'

There was a moment of silence while the gears turned in his brain. Suddenly, he yelled, 'I know who it is, I know who it is!'

'Who?'

'ME!'

In a flash my hand had gripped the collar of his robe, my teeth bared. Again, I'm _usually_ calm and collective.

'I had a feeling it might be you. I wonder what would make me think that, hm?'

'Yeah, I wonder,' Sirius squeaked in a voice quite unlike his own. 'Can I have my surprise now?'

I sighed impatiently and let go of Sirius. 'I swear, sometimes I cannot _believe_ how thick you are!' I cried out in agitation. 

'Sirius, what on earth did you do now?'

I whipped around to see that Liz had just entered the Common Room, and was looking sternly at Sirius. He let out a short girlish scream before sprinting off to the safety of his dorms.

Like I mentioned before, Liz isn't stupid. So when Sirius started the rumours, she knew that I would get incredibly peeved if she mentioned anything. I'd been more than surprised when she hadn't mentioned it at all, before I realized that she was just giving me time to cool off. She could be at my throat sooner or later.

As for the intelligence of our other dorm mates, I wasn't so sure. There was only four other 6th Years, besides Liz and I. Heather Cecelia, Gillian Hawks, and Arleen Donnelly were people whom I _definitely _did _not_ get along with. Not only were they highly egotistical, snobby, and pretty (well… at least _they_ thought they were), they had been after James, Sirius, and Remus for as long as anyone could remember; even before the hormones kicked in. They were just mutant like that. Not that I care that they sought after the Marauders, of course, I just couldn't help but feel sorry for any guy they wanted, even if it happened to be James and his friends.

The last was Jen Niles, whom I had never actually talked to. She was quiet and always kept to herself, preferring to be hidden behind a book rather than out on a trip to Hogsmeade. Sometimes I thought she was doing the same as I was; she was pushing everyone away, she was hating everyone. Only I turned out to be a little luckier and still had one friend with me…

By that same evening, the whole school was talking about me in whispered voices behind cupped hands, or pointing at me and exchanging words I couldn't hear. Liz and I were at a table in the corner of the Common Room, but I could still feel all eyes on me. Sick and tired of it, I threw down my quill and turned to Liz.

'HEY LIZ!' I shouted, so everyone could hear me. Those who weren't looking at me, now suddenly were; any other time I would have told them to mind themselves, but currently it was exactly what I wanted. 'HOW'RE YOU?'

Liz stared at me with a confused look, but didn't say anything and yelled at the top of her lungs, as well. 'HI LILY! I'M OKAY, YOU?'

'FINE. DID YOU HEAR THAT NEW RUMOUR THAT SIRIUS BLACK IS SPREADING ABOUT? THAT _JAMES POTTER_ LIKES _LILY EVANS_?'

__

Now Liz got the hint, and she nodded. 'YES, DON'T YOU FIND IT QUITE STRANGE THAT JUST BECAUSE A GIRL IS WELL-KNOWN THE WHOLE SCHOOL HAS TO FOLLOW HER LOVE LIFE, OR LACK THEREOF?'

'AND NOT ONLY THAT, BUT WHAT I FIND INCREDIBLY AMAZING IS THAT A FEW SIMPLE COMPLIMENTS TOWARDS A BOY BY A GIRL CAN BE TWISTED INTO HER COMPLETELY FANCYING HIM.'

By now almost everyone understood what we were getting at, and those who didn't were soon informed by their friends. Some were blushing and others were purposely not looking towards me. But one girl, one particularly nasty girl, was sidling towards me.

Heather and her mates, Gillian and Arleen, glared down at me.

__

'So, Lily,' she said in a drawing voice; I shivered, how _hadn't_ this girl been put into Slytherin? 'I heard you've…_ gotten _with James.'

Ugh! Had she _not_ just heard everything I said?!

Still, I wanted to smile when I heard the jealousy and anger in her voice. I always knew she was jealous of me because of my "reputation", but this was just _so_ much better.

'I haven't _gotten _with anyone,' I said coolly, 'least of all James Potter. Really now, darling, I'm not _that _desperate… unlike others.'

Liz made a strangling noise as she turned her laugh into a cough, keeping her eyes down on her homework. I smiled mock-charmingly at Heather, as she scowled furiously at me, her cheeks a bright patch of red.

'You think you're so bloody perfect, don't you Lily?' she spat. 'Well I'm sorry to take the spotlight off of you, but I promise you that James Potter will be _mine_.'

'Go ahead,' I said, shrugging; I knew my nonchalance would get her even more livid. 'It's not like I want him.'

She made a strange noise that sounded oddly like a dog growling before she stalked off, Arleen and Gillian following her like a duckling follows its mother. The atrocious things people did to be popular… Or I should probably say, the atrocious things people follow _around_ to be popular…

'Nice, Lily,' Liz said, bursting into laughter as soon as Heather was out of earshot.

I grinned. At least _something_ in my day had gone right.

'Oh, you horrible Lily!' Liz mocked Heather, in a high squeaky voice, causing me to start laughing. 'How _dare_ you steal my knight and shining armour away from me? How _dare_ you steal James Potter, how _dare_ you!'

'What about me?'

I whipped around and nearly toppled out of my seat upon seeing James right behind my chair.

'Don't scare me like that, you git!' I cried angrily.

'Sorry,' he said distractedly. He looked awfully nervous…

'What's going on?' I asked him cautiously. Why did I have to ask? I probably didn't even want to know…

'Er…nothing.'

'Doesn't seem like nothing.'

'Well it is.'

'It is something?'

'No.'

'You don't lie very well.'

'Neither do you.'

'I'm not lying.'

'Good point.'

'Very.'

'Well…'

'Well what?'

'Well, I think I'll just be going--'

'No, you're not leaving.'

'Wow, this may be the first time Lily has _ever_ asked you to stay around her, James.'

'Shut up, Liz.'

'I'm just stating fact!'

'Anyway, Potter, tell me what's wrong! I know it obviously has to be bad if _you're _acting like this.'

__

'Studying his emotional habits now, eh?'

'LIZ!'

I turned menacingly towards my friend, but James interrupted us by sighing heavily.

'Okay…' He caught Liz's eye and they exchanged a look.

Oh. So _that's_ what was wrong. Yes, that was a very BIG something wrong. I groaned. Why tonight of all nights?!

'Tell them to go away!' I said desperately. 'Just… frighten them off or something!'

'I tried!' James said. 'I even went and got McGonagall! She's in the middle of threatening him right now, but he won't give up until he's seen you!'

Professor McGonagall was the strictest teacher I had ever had the displeasure to meet. True, she was head of my house and Deputy Headmistress, but that didn't mean I actually had to _enjoy_ being taught by her--not that I absolutely, positively hated her. We just… didn't get along very well, you could say.

I banged my head on the table, and repeated over and over, 'Why, why, why, why, why?'

'C'mon, Lily, it's not that bad,' Liz said, trying to soothe me by putting a comforting hand on my arm.

That was perfectly well and good for _her_ to say--_she_ didn't have people with highly dangerous quills chasing her!

'Fine,' I said, sighing. 'Where the hell is this bloody brute?'

James led Liz and me down to the Entrance Hall where McGonagall, dressed in her nightgown, was pointing a stern finger at a man in purple robes.

'I'm warning you, sir! You had better leave this grounds _this instant_, or I will be forced to take this to Dumbledore--'

The man was about to respond when his eye caught me walking down the stairs. He grinned and dodged McGonagall, making her even more flustered, and ran up to greet me.

'Hello there, Miss Evans!' he said, shaking my hand. 'I'm Bert Skeeter, reporter for the Daily Prophet.'

I inwardly sighed. The reporters weren't as frequent as they had been several years ago, but some still showed up and hassled me.

'Anywho,' Bert chirped, rummaging around in his pocket. 'Oh pollywog, I know it's in here somewhere… Aha!'

I grimaced as he pulled out an acid green quill. I knew only too well what a Quick-Quotes Quill was--it was the highly dangerous quill I had before mentioned, one of my most powerful enemies, and could start rumours faster than Sirius could spread them.

Bert saw my face and obviously mistook it, for the next thing he said was, 'Yes, my pride and beauty. I only hope to one day pass it on to my eldest daughter, Rita.'

Okay, I was _definitely_ going to have nightmares about whomever Rita Skeeter was tonight.

'Um…okay,' I said hesitantly. 

McGonagall seemed to have regained her composure, and stormed up the stairs, grabbing Bert Skeeter by the collar. I had never seen her so angry, and with the Marauders around, that was certainly making a statement.

'LISTEN HERE, YOU FILTHY SCOUNDREL!' she barked, shaking her fist that was tightly clutching his robe, causing him to gurgle in a strangling sort of way. 'MISS EVANS IS NOT TO BE BOTHERED BY ANYONE! SHE IS A _STUDENT_ AND IF I REMEMBER CORRECTLY, DUMBLEDORE STRICTLY PROHIBITED ANY MORE OF YOU _REPORTERS_ COMING ANYWHERE NEAR HOGWARTS _OR_ HER!'

Fear was etched all over Bert's face; even James and Liz were shocked, as I snuck a glance at their faces. I wanted to speak up, but my mouth was opening and closing, I couldn't make a single sound no matter how hard I tried. I knew, from experience, that even if I said not one single word, the reporters could make up a whole magazine of filth based on me.

'Uh, Professor McGonagall?' I said as gently as I could; I didn't think it would be the best time to get on the Transfiguration teachers nerves. 

Breathing deeply through her flaring nostrils, McGonagall swooped down on me like a hawk.

'Yes, Miss Evans?' she said, through thin lips.

'W-well,' I said, choosing my words _very_ carefully, 'I don't particularly think t-that violence is going to do any help, P-Professor. I was thinking, maybe, we could meet Mr Skeeter halfway, and allow him just one question?' I turned to look at Bert pointedly. 'And then he'll leave…?'

Bert nodded vigorously. 'One question, then I'll leave pronto.'

There was an apprehensive silence as McGonagall debated. I knew I had won her over. I mean, I wasn't a Prefect for _nothing_, you know.

I turned and smiled at Liz, who was still ghostly white and staring wide-eyed at McGonagall; I couldn't understand why, but McGonagall was Liz's mentor. I hesitantly turned to James, who was smiling at me. Rolling my eyes, I turned back to McGonagall.

'Fine,' she said after a while. '_One question_, and I am staying to listen.'

It looked like Christmas had come early for Bert. He whipped out some parchment, sucked on the end of the quill, and spread the parchment on a step (where the quill was perfectly balanced on its tip) before standing back up to face me.

'So, Miss Evans, please remind us why you are famous.' He quickly looked at McGonagall before looking at me again, and added, 'Which is not a question, may I point out,' though I thought that was more directed towards the professor.

Humph. You would figure a reporter would come up with something sneaky like that.

'As if anyone doesn't know,' I muttered. I cleared my throat and said louder and in a monotone voice (I had said it so many times in the past that I had every interviewing question and answer memorized), 'Over four years ago, my family was the first to be attacked by a dark wizard after over a century and a half of nearly total peace in the wizarding world.'

'How sad, how sad. I am sincerely sorry of your great lost.' 

I snorted. No he wasn't.

Bert ignored me and continued. 'I can only guess that it was hard for you.'

He said it in a way that suggested I should continue into depth, but before I could answer, McGonagall growled threateningly, 'Skeeter…'

'Oh right!' Bert laughed nervously. 'The question, the question…'

He began to visibly sweat, and I could understand why. If _I_ had McGonagall hovering over me like that, I would pull out a blade and commit _seppuku* _right there without hesitation, rather than have her cold eyes glaring at me.

I watched him warily. His eyes flicked towards Liz and James, who were standing protectively on either side of me now, and I gulped; I had a nauseating gut feeling that they would be featured in the article.

'Could you please tell me who your friends are?' 

My jaw dropped. I knew it! Honestly, I understood these reporters more than they did themselves.

'No comment,' I said evenly, although I could only guess what the Quick-Quotes Quill was making of that.

Grabbing Liz by one hand and James by the other, I dragged them up the stairs until we were out of audible range of Bert Skeeter. I was shaking in anger and didn't trust myself to speak. I knew I would regret anything I said if I tried.

Reporters could insult me, lie about me, slander me, and I didn't care. But to go to my best friend? I pitied journalists, I really did; they had nothing better to do but to snoop into other people's business. But Skeeter… he'd gone too far.

I looked up upon feeling a hand slip into mine and smiled at Liz; she knew I didn't want to hear any sympathetic rubbish, I didn't _need_ any sympathetic rubbish. 

'Thanks,' I mouthed.

She smiled.

And we walked in silence back to Gryffindor Tower, James in tow, feeling his eyes on me all the while.

Yes, I admit it, I can get very sentimental and mawkish. Once, for Liz's thirteenth birthday, I threw a _huge _party (alright, so no one came besides the Marauders and I, and only the boys because Liz, unfortunately, was friends with them) and bawled my eyes out because 'my precious baby' had become a young woman; afterwards, I had sat her down in a corner and had given her a mothering talk on hormones, boys, and sex. Liz still can't reminisce about the speech without tears of laughter.

When we got back to the Common Room, Sirius was still in his dorm, which was probably for the better. I didn't want to risk my chances of losing it on him and strangling him to death. Liz and I turned to our dorms, ready for a long night of sleep, when I remembered about--

'Potter?'

He turned around. He'd been heading off to his own bed. 'Mm?' he said sleepily.

'Sorry,' I muttered, 'about tonight. Skeeter. I know he's going to--'

James shrugged and cut me off. 'Don't worry about it. G'night.'

Maybe it was because people had the habit of aggravating me that night and I was to the point of frustration, or maybe it was just because I was so bloody tired, but it irritated me that he wasn't angry. He _should_ be angry! I had probably just swept him up in a whole mess of rumours and magazines and newspapers, and I wouldn't be surprised if people went around teasing us for weeks afterwards…

I groaned as I fell back onto my bed, not even bothering to change.

That night only proved what I thought about not knowing people. You could grow up with someone or be friends with them for your whole life or be married to them for years and years--and in the end they did the most foolish things that would be no surprise to you if you _really _knew them.

Like journalists. You would think that you basically knew their character well enough for them to interview you. They would seem charming and nice enough, but in the end all they would want was a few words to completely deform and publicize. 

And there went the trust. If you don't know someone, you can't trust them. If you _think_ you know someone, you _think _you can trust them. Yet you can't; and the worst part is, you don't know it.

Mhm. Exactly my point.

* * *

Something that bothers me more than even James's antics, is the sun spilling through the dorm window and peeking through my curtains, falling right onto my face. Sure it's beautiful, but let's see how _you_ would like it if something bright and annoying woke _you_ from your Rita-Skeeter-less dreams at seven on a Sunday.

I moaned and turned over, but I could still feel its exasperatingly known warmth on the back of my neck. Didn't I _ever_ get a break around here?!

Throwing back my quilt, I climbed out of bed, stretching and yawning. I was in no mood to face the day. I could already tell that I was cross, and nothing had even happened yet.

Liz was like me, a light sleeper, and I heard her opening her curtains as I closed the door behind me, robed with clothes in hand, to set out for the prefects bathroom. I stumbled down the stairs and blinked sluggishly at the empty Common Room, before somehow making my way towards and out of the portrait hole.

'Watch where you're going, dear!' the Fat Lady in the portrait shrieked as I walked headfirst into a wall.

'Yeah,' I mumbled in response, shaking my head and continuing my way down the hall.

It took me twice as much time to reach the fifth floor because of my state of sleepiness. When I finally located the fourth door to the left of the Boris the Bewildered statue, I said the password ("Hunkey-doodle") and entered quickly before I somehow managed to walk into another concrete object.

'Oof.'

So much for that.

'Hey, watch it,' I said, trying to unsuccessfully stand up. I felt someone firmly grab me under the arms and pull me upright.

'Oh, sorry, Lily,' said a voice. A familiar voice.

Shaking my head and blinking, I struggled to life my head. 'Wha-?'

James Potter's face was barely an inch from mine.

I was having a bit of trouble getting things straight this morning, but I wasn't _that_ muddled. As if James was on fire, I jumped away from him and landed on my arse, a few feet away.

'Are you okay?' said James, his eyes widening. He was by my side in a second, trying to help me up again.

'GEROFF!' I shouted, waving my arms wildly. 'GET OFF ME, GET OFF ME!'

Did I mention that I wasn't a morning person?

I jumped up, now fully awake and scowling at James.

'What are _you_ doing here?'

James cast an amused glance at the bathtub behind us, then looked back at me with a small smile.

'I'm guessing the exact same reason that you're here,' he said, and my scowl deepened.

'Well get out so I can shower!'

He shrugged, ignoring my temper as he always did. 'I'm done anyway. See you at breakfast, Lily.'

He left promptly and I locked the door behind him. I pulled off my dressing gown and set it aside with my clean clothes, before sitting down beside the faucets of the tub.

When I had lived with Mum and Daddy, we did have a relatively big house. We weren't poor, not at all, we just weren't rich. But when I began to stay with Liz, I had to adjust to things being much more luxurious, which is harder than you might think. Not only did I have to begin wearing big fluffy dresses and atrocious hats and shoes, I had to make sure I always remembered my manners; from please and thank you's, to making sure I ate with the right silverware.

I said her family was very high-class, sure; but when I said high-class, I meant _high-class_. Grade A, top meat _high-class_. (Except without so many womanising words, of course.) Her home is probably the biggest house--mansion--that I have ever seen, let alone been in. The prefects' bath, which is relatively the size of a small pool, was about the size of the sink at Liz's.

I sighed, thinking about my holidays at the Franks residence, as I slid into the bath now filled with steaming water and scented bubble bath. It's not that I didn't enjoy my time there or that I was ungrateful, it's just hard to spend so much time with people you don't trust.

Sometimes it was so much trouble hating and not trusting everyone, that I seriously thought about dropping my concealment. But then I remembered those cloaked visitors and Daddy's face as he shut the closet door…

No, I would always distrust everyone. I had to. It's the only thing that would protect me from being hurt.

* * *

Liz was fully bathed and dressed when I walked back into the dorm an hour later. Heather, Gillian, and Arleen were still sleeping, but Jen had already gone down to breakfast.

'Hey,' I said, tossing my dirty clothes into a hamper.

'Hi,' said Liz, smiling.

I stared at her. I knew her far better than she thought, if she was thinking that she could fool me with that fake smile.

'Ready to go to breakfast?'

'NO!' Liz shouted before she could contain herself. My suspicion grew. 'Uh, I mean, why don't I have a house-elf bring us up some food? We can have breakfast in bed!'

'No thanks,' I said, even though the proposal sounded inviting; I wanted to find out what Liz knew. 'C'mon, let's go.'

I stood, waiting for her to follow, but she stayed put on the bed.

'Let's go,' I repeated.

Liz bit her lip before tentatively shaking her head. 'N-no, I don't think that would be such a good idea.'

'Why not?'

She sighed and reached a hand under her mattress, pulling out a copy of the Daily Prophet.

Of course! How could I have forgotten? Bert Skeeter would surely have put something in the paper just the day after he interviewed me.

I unfolded the heavyweight and searched pages for any sign of me. I found the article (second page, not bad after all these years) with a black-and-white picture of me smiling at something the photograph didn't show.

'Well…' I said, taking an encouraging breath, and I began to read.

****

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! I'm going to explain more as I go on, and I'm still hoping it'll get better.

Special Thanks:

Irish Lass

Legwarmerz

Lazy Lady

Darcel

Manatees 'R' Us

kitty228806

S. C. Hardy

Mako-Shadows

Scarlett*eyes

Jaws


	3. Nasty Articles That Confuse Redheads

****

A/N: Sorry this is so short and slightly dramatic, but I'm going through a very rough time. Thanks to the reviewers. Here are some answered questions:

YouDon'tKnowWhoIAm: Usually, it goes back and forth with who is talking. Like if it starts out:

'I hate you!' I screamed.

'I hate you, too!' Blahblah yelled.

'I hate you more!'

'I hate you most!'

And then it goes back and forth, see? I'm really sorry if it was confusing, I'll make it a little better next time. Thanks for the help! J 

Iris Cream: LOL! Yes, I know Lily has red hair. But strawberry blond isn't blond, it is red. It's a very light, orangey red. Sorry, I should've cleared that up! And in the second part I said:

"Bert saw my face and obviously mistook it, for the next thing he said was, 'Yes, my pride and beauty. I only hope to one day pass it on to my eldest daughter, Rita.'

Okay, I was _definitely_ going to have nightmares about whomever Rita Skeeter was tonight." Therefore, she has no Rita Skeeter dreams lol.

Ugh! Sorry that was such a long A/N!

**__**

Unpredictable

Chapter 3: Nasty Articles That Confuse Redheads

__

Dedicated: This is for my grandfather. On the 6th of December he had a heart attack, and is still in a coma. Today (12/8/03) he's being taken off the machines and will gradually die, whenever God decides to take him. I love you, Poppy, I love you so much. RIP.

__

It's something unpredictable

But in the end is right

I hope you had the time of your life

~Good Riddance (Time of your Life)

By Green Day

I don't know understand why, but there are some who say they work best under pressure… Well that's nice and everything, but I definitely do NOT. Maybe that's why I caused such a brouhaha when I read the article; I mean, it's not _every_ day you hear someone screaming bloody murder in the dorms.

'Lily!' Liz hissed, as our dorm mates shot up in bed. 'You'll wake up all of Gryffindor Tower!'

'Good!' I shouted. 'I need someone to come up here so I can strangle them!'

Heather, Gillian, Arleen, and Jen all climbed out of bed, the first three glaring at me. I gave Heather an awfully rude finger before turning back to Liz, listening intently for footsteps on the staircase.

And wouldn't you figure that James would be the first to bound up the stairs and burst into the room? If I could give away every last galleon I owned (which isn't much, mind you) to prevent James from coming, I would have gladly handed it over.

'W-what's the matter?' he huffed, clutching at a stitch in his side.

If I was in any other situation I probably would have laughed at his attire. Teddy pyjamas are just too good of a taunt to pass off.

'Uh…' said Liz, quickly looking for an excuse.

'Thought I saw a mouse,' I responded quickly and quite convincingly, if I do say so myself.

'A MOUSE?!' Heather shrieked. She threw her hands in the air and ran from the room screeching, closely followed by her cronies. Jen stood there looking embarrassed.

'I-I'll give you some privacy.' She grabbed some clothes from her trunk and headed towards the bathroom, still blushing.

'A mouse?' James repeated like Heather, except more suspiciously.

I mentally kicked myself. I may have been convincing, but James certainly isn't brainless.

Before I could say anything else that would screw me further into the ground, Sirius, Remus, and Peter ran into the dorm, their mouths hanging open.

'Is someone being murdered?' Peter said stupidly. I had the irresistible urge to smack him, but he's quite lucky that I have at least some manners.

'No!' I yelled in a that-was-the-stupidest-thing-you-have-ever-said tone.

'She saw a mouse,' said James, with a pointed look towards his friends. They weren't stupid, either. They knew I had seen no mouse, rat, or any other rodent. 

'Yes,' I said defiantly anyway, 'I saw a mouse.'

Sirius grinned. 'I highly doubt--'

'WHAT IS GOING ON UP HERE?!'

We all whipped around to see Francine Miller, also a Gryffindor and present Head Girl, glowering in the doorway.

'Sorry Fran,' said James, who had once been on _very_ good terms with Francine, if you get what I mean. Just because he supposedly loves me, doesn't mean he hasn't had his share of snogging partners. 'Lily just thought she saw a mouse.'

'A mouse? That's it?' said Francine, looking extremely relieved.

'I'm allergic to them,' I added.

James and Sirius looked at Peter amusedly, while Remus looked uncomfortable. I wonder what that was about…

'Oh! Well, then, I can handle this.' She pulled out her wand. '_Accio _rat!'

I bit my lip nervously. We waited for something to happen, but no furry creature popped out. Instead, Peter went flying backwards into Francine.

'GET OFF!' she shouted, pushing the plump boy off of her. She stood, brushed herself off, and stared at her wand. 'I'll have to go see Dumbledore about this.' 

The Marauders burst into laughter, making Francine come back to her senses and regain her Head Girl composure. 'Come on, everybody out! Come on, come on!'

Francine started waving the Marauders out the door, but, like I said, James isn't brainless and couldn't be fooled by my conspiracy. He's far from stupid. In fact, if I weren't top in all my classes (except for Transfiguration, which James specializes in), I think he would probably be the best student.

Which is why he turned back around to stare suspiciously at me. Everything would have been fine, PERFECTLY FINE, had he not looked at the ground. His mouth formed an 'O' shape as he saw the paper, but he was marched out before he could ask any further questions.

I groaned once Francine shut the door behind her. 'Potter saw the article!' I told Liz, falling back onto my bed.

'What?!' she yelped.

'HE--SAW--THE--ARTICLE!'

'I heard you the first time, you dolt!'

'Oh. Sorry. But anyway, he saw it! HE SAW IT!'

I was panicking, and I knew Liz understood why. This was the first time I had no quipping mark to pull me out of a situation, or, more importantly, to hide my feelings. How could I hide a situation that was printed?!

What the bloody hell was I going to do?! I, Lily Evans, could NOT be vulnerable!

'Well he would've seen it anyway,' said Liz, which did _not_ help my mood. 'He reads the Daily Prophet over breakfast every morning.'

'Thanks Liz,' I muttered sarcastically. 'Thanks a fat lot for your help.'

'Sorry,' she said, 'but I'm just telling you the truth.'

'I don't want the damn truth, I want a way out of this!'

'You could always tell him yourself,' said Liz.

Why must _my_ friend, of all people, come up with the most dim-witted ideas?

'I mean, he's going to see it soon, so why not be the first to tell him?' she continued. 'I'm sure he would like it better that way.'

Using my brain this time, I grabbed my pillow and stuffed it over my face before screaming again.

'THIS IS NOT _WORKING_!' I yelled as loud as I could through the pillow.

Liz sighed and pulled the cushion away. 'Lily Evans,' she said through gritted teeth, 'I am giving you three seconds to pick up that stupid arse of yours and get downstairs and tell James what the hell that Skeeter did!'

She said it so calmly that I think I reached a breaking point in our relationship--the first time I ever truly believed that Liz would attack me if I didn't do what she said. I nodded meekly, picked up the article, and ran towards the stairs.

Don't get used to me being like this, because this is the first, last, and only time you will _ever_ see me so helpless. The only other time I was like this was in First Year when I got my head stuck in a stair banister, and that was only because it was a dare and I wasn't acting very bright on that day.

And all this because of me! If I hadn't trusted that daft Bert Skeeter, if I hadn't allowed him just _one_ question, I wouldn't be in this situation. I went against my own rule! I had trusted someone, and worst of all, I had trusted a journalist.

My face was burning in anger by the time I reached the 6th Year boys dorm. I knocked on the door, trying to calm down, but I couldn't. My hands itched to kill James, since I wasn't about to kill myself, and he was second best. I didn't know if I wanted to do it with my bare hands or with a particularly dull knife; either way, it would be a splendid murder.

'Whoa, Lily, are you okay?'

I snapped out of my thoughts and looked up to see that Sirius had opened the door.

'Uh…' I said. I was starting to regret running up here without even knowing how to start.

Sirius's eyes widened even more, and I could already see _tomorrow's _headlines: "LILY EVANS HAS NOTHING TO SAY--THE WORLD IS ENDING!"

James appeared at the door besides his best friend (still in his teddy night clothes), and his jaw dropped when he saw me. Geez, did I really look that horrible?!

'Sirius, you idiot! Don't just stand there, bring her in!'

Sirius grabbed my arm and hauled me into their dormitory, leading me over to a bed and forcing me to sit down. And then, for some reason, they ran into the bathroom.

I had been in the boys' rooms a few times before, but never to look around. This was my first time I actually saw it in it's fullest, and personally I thought it looked like a disaster area. Clothes and robes were all over the floor, books and papers littered all the bedside tables and desks, and the walls were covered with Quidditch posters.

There was a full-sized mirror hanging on the back of their door and I turned to inspect my reflection. I managed not to scream again, but I did let out a trail of pretty nasty, vulgar words. My face was bright red and to anybody who didn't know what I was thinking--which was, well, everyone--it looked like I was going to burst into tears at any moment.

I rubbed furiously at my face, trying to get the expression off. I _wasn't_ going to cry, I _knew_ I wasn't, but everyone else didn't know any better!

'Hi Lily.'

I looked up to see Sirius and James emerging from the bathroom, this time with Remus. I snuck a quick glance at the mirror again. Damn it! I looked even worse.

'Hey,' I said, trying to act normal. Although I don't think plastering a smile on my face did it. Since when did smile at the Marauders, let alone this early in the morning? 'Where's Peter?' I added, trying to change the subject.

'Breakfast,' said Remus quickly. 'Couldn't wait. But that doesn't matter. How're you?'

'Fine. Why do you ask?' I knew the answer damn well, but I was hoping that playing stupid would help the matter.

'Hmm, well,' said Sirius sarcastically, 'Lily Evans, the most cynical girl we know--' I glared at this '--comes knocking at our door, red as her hair and about to cry--'

'I AM _NOT_ ABOUT TO CRY!' I screamed, jumping up from the bed.

'Hey!' James cried suddenly, pointing to my feet.

I looked down. The Daily Prophet lay on the ground; I must've dropped it. Yep, that's it, I am officially the biggest dunderhead Hogwarts has ever seen.

'I knew your attitude had something to do with that,' said James. I stared. _Now_ what was I supposed to do?

Only to prove my stupidity even more, James dove towards the paper before I could stop him, and dodged my arm as I tried to grab it. He wasn't the best Gryffindor Chaser for nothing, you know.

'That's mine, give it back!' I shouted, as if it would make a difference.

James shook his head and moved back towards his friends, which I thought was a very wise idea. They could protect him from me when I lost it and began to attack him.

I can deal with a lot from James. I could handle the candy and roses he sent me for Valentine's Day; I could handle the notes he passed to me in class, proclaiming he was forever mine; I could even handle that fact that he sunk as low as liking me for who I was. But what he did next pushed me beyond the limits of anything I could ever manage.

'Don't read it, Potter,' I said menacingly. My heart was pounding. He was just going to read it _aloud_ to everyone?

'I'll read it sooner or later,' he said, shrugging. First Liz, now him… ugh! Can't a girl get some privacy?! Not that an article about me in the newspaper is private, but still…

He opened the paper with a flourish. '"Lily Evans,"' he read, '"a beautiful and daring 6th Year at Hogwarts School, is finally moving on with her life. Four years ago her Muggle family was attacked by who we now know as You-Know-Who, the first victims of what turned out to be a steadily growing nightmare.

"For a while it was believed that Lily Evans had stopped loving. She remained with her one true friend, Elizabeth Franks, and has kept to only her since. But now, there seems to be new love in the air.

"'She always hangs out with James Potter and his friends,' says Heather Cecelia, a fellow Gryffindor. 'He follows her around like a puppy dog. Too bad he couldn't pick someone like me; I think we would have much more fun.'

"It is confirmed that James Potter, also a 6th Year Gryffindor, and a very handsome one at that, has fallen for the fiery redhead. Even as she is interviewed by your one and only Bert Skeeter, special reporter of Daily Prophet, he stands protectively by her side. 

"It is rumoured that Miss Evans returns the feelings, but let us hope it is only a silly crush. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named may well be out looking for more of this student's loved ones to eradicate, and it would be a sad day indeed if he ever laid eyes on Lily Evans and James Potter, two children in love.'"

Usually proceeding such happenings as this are very uncomfortable silences. But here that wasn't exactly the case. Remus was making a gurgling noise, Sirius tried to lighten the situation by saying, 'At least he called you guys good-looking!', and James gasped, his eyes looking at me, then the paper, at me, and then the paper.

If my face was burning before, it was nothing compared to now. I felt like my whole head was being stuffed into a hole of molten hot lava. I was shaking in suppressed anger and for once I _seriously_ considered hurting someone.

'That was low, James,' I spat. 'Real low.'

I huffed from the room and ran down the stairs.

See? If he really loved me than he wouldn't have hurt me.

__

You may think you're in love with someone, but it's just a silly crush.

A silly crush. That's all it is.

* * *

I was silent all through breakfast, and Liz knew better than to try and push conversation. Instead she turned to Jen, who was sitting across from her, while I played absentmindedly with my porridge. 

The Marauders were sitting at the other end of the table, James in the same state as I was. He kept glancing at me but I kept my eyes transfixed on my bowl; there was no way in hell I was going to give him a single word, a single look, or any sign to show my feelings.

I was Lily Evans. I didn't show my feelings.

Every now and then I would hear a gasp or a giggle as someone new read the Daily Prophet and reached my article, or was told what was going on by someone else. No one dared come up to me about it, because they knew what a madcap I could be, but I could sense people talking about me in every direction.

'I'm leaving,' I told Liz, throwing down my spoon. ''Bye.'

As it was a Sunday, I had no classes to keep my mind off of things, and immediately dragged my backpack to the library. I plumped down in a chair at a table in the way back and stared at the opposing bookshelf for a good half-hour before I began my work.

That was when I was first teased about the article. Severus Snape, a 6th Year Slytherin, is the foulest, most greasiest, most horrible smelling person I have ever had the displeasure to meet, which is one of the few things the Marauders and I agree on. Not only do I hate Snape, but he is the biggest enemy of James and his friends.

'Hello, mudblood,' I heard someone sneer behind me.

I knew immediately who it was, and I also knew immediately that if he knew what was good for him, he would turn around right now and leave me in peace. If only Slytherins were that smart…

'Hello, greaseball,' I responded serenely, still scrawling on about hag rebellions in the 1300s.

'I heard Potter and you are--'

'Together?' I said quickly, trying to hide my irritation. 'Well you heard wrong. Bye then!'

Snape laughed, sending shivers down my spine. It was cold and ruthless, something that would belong to someone whom you definitely didn't want to meet in the middle of the night in a deserted alleyway. 

'You're not getting rid of me that easily, Evans,' he said. He was right behind my chair now.

'What a pity,' I said, trying to remain calm. Dark alleyway, deserted library… I didn't want to be with Snape in either. 'Would you like me to pull out my wand and hex you instead? It'd certainly be a delight. I'm a bit bored.'

'How about _I_ pull out _my _wand, and--'

'Snape,' a voice growled threateningly.

For once, I didn't mind being rescued, but why, _why_, did the rescuer have to be Potter?

I turned around. James, looking incredibly menacing, was inching his way out of the shadows of the bookshelves. Snape remained composed but I saw his temple twitching.

'I suggest you leave Lily alone,' James said. 'Or _I_ will pull out my wand. And trust me, Snape, you do not want that.'

I hate Snape, no doubt about it, but right now I actually pitied him. I had seen what happens when somebody meddles with James. Obviously, Snape had as well.

'No need for that, Potter,' he snarled, a smile lingering on those absolutely, positively, _horrendous_ lips.

'That's what I thought,' said James furiously.

'Besides, I should have assumed that you would stick up for your girlfriend. And such a lovely one at that…'

He slowly stuck out a hand and reached gradually to touch my hair, his black eyes never leaving James's. I saw James step forward but I was quicker, and in a rush I was standing, pulling my arm back, and punching Snape in his overlarge nose.

Forgive me if I forgot to tell you that I have a _very_ strong right hook.

'Take _that_, you filthy piece of scum,' I miffed, as he fell to the floor, clutching his bleeding nose.

I grabbed my things and headed towards the library door.

'Lily! Wait!'

I walked faster. 

Trusting makes your head boggle, and my head was definitely boggling. I won't deny that I didn't want to stop and talk rationally with James, but that would mean I had to trust him again, and I had trusted enough for this weekend. I had trusted Skeeter, and he had printed an embarrassing article; I had trusted James, and he read the article aloud. Of all the people to be betrayed, why did it have to be me, the girl who hates trusting the most?!

'Lily, I want to talk to you!'

'Well I DON'T want to talk to YOU!' I shouted over my shoulder.

Didn't the git get the hint?!

'Lily, _we need to talk_!'

'James, _you need to_--' And then I told him to go do something _very_ rude which I don't think I'll repeat here. I would have told him even more if I didn't suddenly feel a painfully strong grip on my left arm.

I was beginning to regret very much that James Potter was on the Quidditch team. First he grabs the paper, now he grabs _me_… Didn't he understand that I _didn't want to talk to him_?

'Listen, I understand that you don't want to talk to me.'

Ouch. What a slap in the face.

'But I just need to say something.'

'Then you better say it pretty damn fast, Potter,' I said bitterly, 'because you have about thirty seconds before I reach back there and punch you like I did Snape.'

And he knew I really would, which is why I think he continued hastily.

'I don't understand, why are you mad at me?'

I wanted to laughed at this. I turned around so quickly that he nearly lost his footing and stumbled backwards, and I looked so intimidating that he backed up even more as I advanced upon him.

'Why am I mad at you?' I hissed. 'Well, for one, Potter, you knew what that article was going to say. You knew it was going to be embarrassing and full of lies, but didn't care! I asked you--I _told_ you--not to read that letter aloud. SO WHY DID YOU?'

'I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking--'

'OBVIOUSLY!'

'--and if I could take it back, I would!'

'But you can't! And I am so piss angry that--that--that I can't even think of anything to say!' I sighed; I was so upset I couldn't even get my sarcasm to overwhelm me, which I _really_ needed right now, to keep me from doing anything stupid… like telling James Potter my feelings.

I flopped onto the ground, leaning against the wall; I kept my eyes shut tightly as James sat down next to me.

'I'm sorry!' he said anxiously.

'If you were so bloody sorry then you wouldn't have done it.'

'But--'

'I'm famous, James,' I interrupted, as if it would answer all the problems. 

'I know you are.'

'There are other famous girls out there, go attach yourself to them.'

'But--'

'I don't want to hear it.'

'Will you stop and let me speak?'

'Will you stop caring?'

'Will you stop hating me?'

'Will you stop answering me with questions?'

'Does it sound like it?'

'Then I won't stop loving you.'

'Then I won't stop hating you.'

James stayed silent for a moment. I didn't know what I felt exactly anymore, I was so emotionally beat. 

'You know,' said James after a while, 'I think you're scared that you might actually like me, and that's why you're acting like this.'

'Think so?' I muttered sarcastically. He ignored me and continued.

'You're afraid that Skeeter might actually be right and that Voldemort will come after the ones you love. You aren't angry at all.'

I was surprised for two reasons. One, I was the only one I knew who spoke Voldemort's real name, excluding our headmaster. And two, I never thought James would have come up with something like that. _I_ didn't even understand what I was feeling, but James's reason seemed a hell of a lot more reasonable than my excuse of being angry with him.

'We've talked,' I said pointedly, after deciding I couldn't find anything else to say, 'so can you leave me alone now?'

He looked at me for a moment and a glazed look came over him.

I rolled my eyes. Oh boy, here it comes…

'I love you, Lily,' he said quietly.

This angered me even more. Why did he still like me after I screamed at him, told him that I hated him? Why couldn't he just understand that I would never be with someone who likes me for my fame?

There was no smile on my face as I said, 'I hate you, James.'

He stood and walked away, leaving me to my thoughts.

Thus ended my period of helplessness.

* * *

I wondered around the school for three hours afterwards, trying to filter through my thoughts. Instead, I ran into two snogging couples, caught three students pulling a prank (surprisingly, none were the Marauders), and found three more secret passages I had never known about before. I walked back to the Common Room feeling strange, but slightly better.

Liz ran to me as soon as I walked dazedly through the portrait hole. I didn't pay attention to what she was saying, but nodded and excused myself to the dorm. As I walked by everyone, I ignored all the inquiries of my whereabouts for the past hours and even Heather's sneering remark 'Was poor little James sticking up for you again?', and walked straight up the stairs before collapsing on my bed.

I had rationalized with myself and realized I had made a big deal out of something small. He hadn't done much harm. Like I said, it was an excuse to cover up feelings I didn't understand. 

Yes, I was still angry.

Yes, I still hated James.

Yes, I was completely and utterly confused about everyone and everything.

But at the moment I didn't care. At the moment, I was going to put away my books… I was going to slip off my shoes and turn off the light… and I was going to climb into my bed and sleep until tomorrow morning at 6:30, when I would be waking up to start another day of school. 

****

A/N: No, no feelings between James and Lily, yet. It's too soon. Well… I don't think I'll be updating in a while. Since my grandfather will be dying, I don't think I'll have time for much writing. I'm sorry. But I promise the next part will be better!!


	4. Tropical Punch Birthdays

****

A/N: Thank you for the comments about my grandfather. J He died last Monday, the 9th and the funeral was on Friday. I don't think the last chapter was my best, so I worked really hard on this, and just for you guys I added some lovely happenings between our favourite couple! I don't like Lily so mean, either, so I added a little niceness. ;)

**__**

Unpredictable

Chapter 4: Tropical Punch Birthdays

__

Dedicated: For my grandfather. 333

__

It's something unpredictable

But in the end is right

I hope you had the time of your life

~Good Riddance (Time of your Life)

By Green Day

'I… am not… SICK!' I shouted at Liz for the twentieth time that morning, before sneezing into a tissue. If my nose weren't attached to my face I probably would have punched it for being so _perfectly_ on time. 

'Well you wouldn't be, if _someone_ hadn't accidentally left the window open,' said Liz, turning to scowl at Heather, who was getting dressed.

She smiled sweetly and shrugged. 'Was it just me, or was it a tad warm in here yesterday?'

'At the end of OCTOBER?!' Liz shouted. 'I DON'T THINK SO!'

'Don't worry,' said Heather, turning to me. 'James can always make you feel better.'

'Honestly, why are you--_achoo_--still on about that article?' I said tranquilly. '_I _would say someone--_achoo_--is jealous.'

'Jealous?' Heather scoffed. 'Of _you_? In your dreams, Evans.'

'Sorry to disappoint you,' I said, 'but I have much more--_achoo_--important things to dream about rather than an ugly git that can't even get a boy like James to look at you, unless you're locked up in your exhibit at the zoo.'

Heather blushed angrily. 'You don't think I can get James?'

'Yeah, right!' Liz laughed. 'James is completely hooked on Lily, and always will be.'

As annoying as James could be, it was such a good insult to throw at Heather. I turn to her with a Ha-beat-that look, but surprisingly, she didn't look angry. Instead, she smiled wryly.

'Oh, so you haven't heard then?'

'Haven't heard what?' I said. 

Her smiled widened. 'About James and Morgan Lake, of course.'

Morgan Lake was a Ravenclaw 6th Year, and a very pretty one at that. I didn't know much about her except that she was a half-blood and excelled in Herbology, and that she was a prefect.

'What about--_achoo_--them?' I asked, everything going right over my head. What was Heather getting at?

'That they're going out!'

My first instinct was to punch Heather in the face, because she was just so damn annoying. My second instinct was to punch James in the face, because… well I didn't know why, I was still confused about everything. My third instinct, and the one I listened to _thank Merlin_, was to hide every emotion that I had.

I cleared my face and shrugged. 'So?'

Heather looked flabbergasted. '"So"? That's all you have to say?'

'Actually, no. I'd also like say that I'm incredibly hungry, so if you don't mind, I'm going down to breakfast.'

Before Heather could get another word in edgewise, I turned on my heals and grabbed my pack, before heading down the stairs, Liz close behind. We didn't speak as we made our way down to the Great Hall for breakfast, and by the time we reached the Entrance Hall, I knew exactly what was running through her mind. And I was positive that she was entirely wrong.

'_Achoo_--Don't start,' I said grimly, without her even saying anything.

'Huh?' she responded.

'I know what you're thinking, and I can tell you right now that I am _not_ jealous of Morgan.'

Damn right I wasn't! The thought was laughable.

Ha ha.

'I never said you were!' said Liz in a tone that clearly said she thought I was. 'And even if you were…'

'I'm NOT!'

'I'm just _saying_, that even if you were, it would be okay, you know. You're allowed to be jealous.'

'Maybe.--_achoo--_But I'm not.'

Liz sighed. 'If you say so…'

We took our seats at Gryffindor Table in silence. I poured some juice into my cup perhaps a little too violently, as it sloshed right back out and onto the table; I was peeved that my best--my only--friend thought that I was jealous because I wasn't James Potter's girlfriend!

It didn't help my mood when Peter, Sirius, and Remus came down and sat beside us and began talking about Morgan. I could have easily jumped on them and smashed their heads into the platter of papaya seeds in front of them.

'She is so hot!' Sirius was saying through a mouthful of eggs.

'Is that all you ever care about?' said Remus. 'She's in Ravenclaw and incredibly smart.'

'And she's so nice!' Peter squeaked.

Sirius nodded. 'And did you get a load of her arse?'

'PLEASE!' I snapped suddenly. 'I am _trying _to eat!'

'Somebody's touchy this morning,' Remus commented.

'I wonder why…' Sirius added.

Uh oh. I saw a grin forming on all three boys' faces. I had done it. I had really done it. I might as well write my will now.

'You wonder why what?' said a voice behind us.

I suppose I turned around too fast, because the next thing I knew I was on my bum. On the ground. And James Potter was hovering above me.

'Are you okay?' he said, helping my up.

We hadn't spoken since yesterday and things still weren't smooth between us, but I was grateful of the silent agreement not to talk about it. 

'About as okay as someone who falls off their chair,' I muttered, rubbing my backside. 

Usually it would be embarrassing to any sixteen-year-old who falls in the middle of breakfast, but I personally didn't give a care. Maybe that's why a certain person was staring at me strangely.

'Who're you?' I rudely asked the girl who was _clinging_ to James's arm. Apparently the fall must have shaken up my brain, for I momentarily forgot who the pretty brunette was.

'Morgan Lake,' she said, flashing me a pearly smile as she extended her hand. 

I stared at it for a second before turning my head quickly and sneezing against my shoulder. 'Mhm,' I said, looking back at the girl who's eyebrows were now raised. 'Pleasure, I'm sure.'

I took my seat next to Liz who was pursing her lips to keep from laughing. _I _wasn't happy at all; this just proved that I really was sick. I was always grumpy and incredibly discourteous when I was sick.

James and Morgan took a seat in front of me. 'You wouldn't mind if Morgan ate with us today, would you?' said James. His friends shook their heads, practically drooling over the Ravenclaw.

I elbowed Sirius in the side. 'In all honesty I don't see how you can ogle over a girl and eat--_achoo_--at the same time.'

Both Morgan and Sirius blushed.

'And you, James,' I said, turning to him. 'What's wrong with you? Don't let him stare at your--_achoo_--girl like that!'

I really hate how James understands me so well. Instead of smart mouthing, he exchanged a look with Liz that clearly showed they were silently trading information. I didn't know if it was that I was jealous or just sick, but they agreed on one, because with a quick nod from both, Liz was pulling at my arm.

'Come on, Lily, before we're late for Charms,' she said, standing up.

'But we have--_achoo_--Potions first thing!' I said, standing as well but not budging.

'Oh. Right. Um, well… I left something in the Common Room.'

I was top of my Year, what did she think I was? Stupid?!

'But then we'll be late for Potions.'

'No, we won't; we have time.'

'If we would be late for Charms, then we would _definitely_ be late for Potions. One, it is a longer walk; two, if you want to stop in the Common--'

'I get the point,' Liz hissed, tugging more forcedly at my arm. 'Now let's _go_!'

I shrugged and turned back around. ''Bye Meagan!'

'It's Morgan!' she called back, smiling and waving.

Cheery people are so bloody annoying. 

'What was that all about?' Liz nearly screamed once we had left the Great Hall.

I shrugged again. 'It wasn't--_achoo_--about anything.'

'I think it was about _you_ being _jealous_!'

What was it with people telling me how I felt?! Although James was a hell of a lot closer than Liz currently was. 

'_Achoo_--Think again, Liz! How could I be jealous of that brunette bimbo?'

'HELLO? She's in Ravenclaw!'

'Okay, so maybe she's not a bimbo, but she's still a brunette--_achoo_.'

Liz shook her head, sighing. 'Get it through your head, Lily. You… are… jealous.'

'I'm--I'm--I'm not--_ACHOO_--jealous.'

'Oh, c'mon,' she said, rolling her eyes. 'I'm taking you to the Hospital Wing.'

I don't need to be told--I _know_ my behaviour was inexcusable. I _know_ that I was rude to Morgan. And I know that it is going to sound beyond stupid when I say… it wasn't my fault! I honestly couldn't help what I was doing. It was like… like I was being controlled by a monster!

I groaned. Yes, a monster is was it was. The green-eyed monster--no pun intended.

'Liz?' I said timidly.

'I know, I know,' she sighed impatiently. 'You're jealous.'

This had to be some sort of conspiracy! How was it that everyone knew my feelings before I actually felt them? 

'We know you better than you may think,' she added.

I opened my mouth in disbelief but--

Wait…

'"We"?' I asked.

'Yes, we,' said Liz nonchalantly.

'Who's we?!' I snapped.

'James and me, of course,' she said, as if it were the most obvious thing.

'James--_achoo_--doesn't know me well!'

'Does too!'

'All he knows is the--_achoo_--rubbish those stupid journalists publish, because he only likes me for being Lily Evans, the star; not Lily Evans, the Hogwarts student.'

It was Liz's turn to groan. Many times in the past I've burst into our dorm, piss angry and cursing off James for liking me because of my fame. And each time, Liz would calmly say, 'Lily, you know he likes you because you're pretty, smart, a great friend, nice on occasions, and charming when you want to be.'

We had reached the Hospital Wing, and Liz stopped outside, taking me firmly by the shoulders. 'James really does like you. Couldn't you… couldn't you just give him a chance? Even just try being his friend? He's not so bad once you get to know him.'

I wrinkled my nose, as if liking James would be the hardest thing I was ever asked to do. And hell, it might just as well have been; how am I supposed to suddenly befriend someone I have gone out of my way to hate?

'Please, Lily?' Liz pleaded.

'I can't!--_achoo_--He's too shallow!'

'How is he shallow?!'

'For liking me because--'

'Don't start that again!'

'I didn't!'

'You were going to!'

'Prove it!'

'No!'

'Yes--_achoo_!'

'Why?'

'Because I said so!'

'Are you _mad_? I have very ill patients in here! This is an abomination, students screaming outside the Hospital Wing!'

Both Liz and I jumped to see Madam Corkery, the school nurse, standing in the doorway of the Hospital Wing, looking absolutely furious; she was no doubt one of the most scariest adults at Hogwarts. If you came to her with a scraped knee, she would more than likely inform Dumbledore and all the professors, and bid them to write an owl to the patients' parents, stating they had better start preparing for the funeral.

'Sorry, Madam Corkery,' I said. 'Liz was just bringing me because I have--_achoo_--a cold.'

It was as if her death day had come early. She gasped and her eyes bulged and if she didn't have the lungs of a bullfrog (this woman could _scream_) then I would think she was hyperventilating.

'Oh, you poor dear!' She hustled me inside, and closed the door on Liz without another word. 'Gracious me, how long have you been _standing_ out there in that cold hallway? You should have come to see me right away! You should be in bed!'

She forced me to lay down while she made her way over to a cabinet and began rummaging through it, muttering about explosions and murders and the end of the world.

I rolled my eyes. What the hell did she think I was going to do? Spontaneously combust?

She finally pulled out a green bottle and poured out an orangey liquid into a smaller tube, before handing it to me. I drank it and made a face--it tasted like mouldy socks rinsed in saltwater then flushed down a toilet, transferred to a polluted pond, and finally worn for three months by Severus Snape without being washed. 

'Can I have a late note to class?' I said, handing the container back to her.

'CLASS?' she shrieked. 'You can't go back to class! You must rest, you'll be in bed for _days_!'

My jaw dropped. 'Days?! I only have a cold! Not even! See, no sneezing, the medicine helped!'

'But my dear child--'

'No,' I said firmly. 'I really should be getting to class.'

Looking as though she had just been slapped with a rubber chicken, she huffed over to her desk and quickly scrawled a note before practically shoving me out of the Hospital Wing. Liz had already left so I made my way down to the dungeons for Potions class alone.

Potions is probably my least favourite class. Not only do the Gryffindors have it with the Slytherins, which means the stupid git Snape is there, but James was assigned as my partner. It wouldn't be too bad, because he is a good student, but I always try to work extra hard in Potions because every year I try and beat Snape as top in the class. And that is awfully hard when you have an incredibly annoying boy eyeballing you the whole time, and not even paying attention to what he's doing.

Being the Head of Slytherin House, you would think that the professor would be completely horrible. Professor Davis isn't at all that bad; true, at times he shows favouritism towards Snape, being his favourite student, but really he's about as boring and monotony as Professor Binns, the most tedious History of Magic teacher Hogwarts has ever seen.

I knocked on the dungeon door before entering, where Professor Davis was writing instructions on the blackboard. I handed him my note and sat down in my seat beside James, and pulled out my cauldron.

'Hey!' said James cheerfully, as if that morning hadn't happened. 

I forced a smile. 'Uh… hi.'

His eyes bulged and he did a double take. 'What did you say?'

I knitted my eyebrows together. 'Hi…' I said slowly. 

I could clearly see why this would trouble him. Not only did I actually _smile_ at him, which I hardly EVER did, I also said hi without a witty comment. It was a flipping miracle!

'Oh, okay,' he said uncertainly, as if not sure how to take this news.

Professor Davis turned to the class and told us to begin working on the octyl methoxycinnamate potion, which I completely missed what the point of it was. I pulled out some dragon scales and dimethicone leaves and began chopping them when James said, 'So how're you?'

I had the urge to say "Well, my day would be looking much brighter if I didn't have to spend an hour sitting beside you" but I bit my tongue, remembering what Liz said. Maybe he really wasn't half bad. I shook my head quickly and pretended like I was talking to Remus, instead of James. I could always talk to him more calmly than most and maybe if I forgot how I forced myself to act around the messy-haired boy… It was worth a shot.

'Okay,' I said, shrugging. 'Madam Corkery thought I was going to keel over when I asked for some cold medicine.'

James, who I think had been expecting something more along the lines of the brighter day comment, dropped his brass scales and the slug slime that he had been measuring splattered to the floor. Davis barely looked up from his desk as he whipped out his wand and muttered something, causing James's instrument and ingredients to fly back into place on the table.

'Careful, Potter, or you will do this in silence,' he reprimanded in a dull tone.

'Yes, sir,' said James, who suddenly looked much paler.

Was it really that shocking that I actually spoke nicely to him?! My stomach lurched in guilt.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence and I kept my eyes down on my shredded leaves, my face burning. I could feel him look up at me every now and then, and I would blush even more.

After at least five minutes, he cleared his throat and said, 'I remember last year I came back from a Quidditch game with a broken arm and she made such a fuss that she owled my parents, telling them I was paralysed for life and would never be able to hold a wand again.'

We both laughed and as if I had suddenly grown three extra heads, the whole class was staring at us. I turned to look at Liz; she was grinning so widely I thought her face was going to break with the strain of it.

Both thoroughly embarrassed, James and I turned back to our potion, trying to ignore the gapes of everyone. We didn't talk to each other for the rest of the class, and when the bell rang, I packed up my things in a flash and nearly ran out of the room.

I was first to arrive at Transfiguration and put my head down on my desk immediately, so I didn't have to face anyone as they came in, one classmate in particular. I felt Liz sit beside me a few minutes later, as well as a pair of eyes attach themselves to the back of my head.

'That was brilliant!' she hissed in my ear.

'What was brilliant?' I said, sitting up.

'You can't fool me, Lily, I know for a fact James and you were getting along!'

'Thanks for the newsflash.'

'You don't seem too happy for someone who made an impossible breakthrough.'

I could still feel those goddamn eyes. Who the hell was staring at me and why didn't they mind their own business?!

'Because James and I were _not_ getting along!'

'You were laughing,' Liz said, pointing out the obvious.

'Nice observation, Sherlock Holmes.'

'It is an obvious sign of affection!'

Any second now before I turn around and poke those stupid eyes out with my wand…

'How did it go from getting along to affection?!'

'Same difference!'

Enough. I don't know whether it was the fact that I was peeved at fighting with Liz, or that everyone was now talking about me actually speaking normally to James, or if whomever was staring at me just pushed me over the edge. But I turned around furiously and shouted, 'STOP STARING AT ME!' I grabbed my bag and stormed out of the classroom just as the bell rang, stopping for just one second to see who the perpetrator was.

James was staring at the board embarrassedly and blushing to the very roots of his hair.

To excuse myself from classes for the rest of the day, I went back to Madam Corkery and told her that I was still feeling under the weather and should stay in bed for the day. She gave me a look that clearly said "I told you so!" and I gave her one right back that said "Say a word and I'll stick orange slime down _your_ throat and we'll see if _you_ like it."

So I changed into comfortable pyjamas and laid in bed, curling up with my favourite book. I hardly read anything, though, because my mind was in such a flutter. I was boiling at myself because I couldn't believe I had actually trusted James enough to pretend like we were friends for a second; I was piss angry at Liz for convincing me to give him a chance and for insisting there was "affection" between us; and I was furious with James because… well I didn't need an excuse. I could be angry at James anytime I wanted for no reason, just because he loved me for being famous.

I tossed and turned that night (Corkery had forced me to stay, and I didn't object; I didn't want to have a run-in with James in Gryffindor Tower), unable to sleep. My mind roved over my jealousy, which I decided not to speak of anymore; I wondered what it would have been like, had it been _me_ that was clinging to James's arm…

I shook my head. That was the last thing I needed to think about when I was trying incredibly hard to ignore the jealousy… I racked my brain for something else to concentrate on. Well… tomorrow is the 18th, and McGonagall was giving us a test--

I suddenly sat straight up in bed, trying to scream, but it came out as a stifled yelp. Madam Corkery seemed to hear anyway and flew out of her room, turning on the lights with a flick of her wand as she ran over to my bed.

'W-what's wrong, dear?' she huffed, patting her hairnet to make sure all her curlers were still in place.

'Tomorrow--tomorrow--tomorrow is the _eighteenth_!' I told her, my eyes wide.

Her jaw dropped. She must think I was delusional. Knowing her, I might be there until January…

'Um… I was just having a nightmare,' I quickly lied. 'I had a nightmare about me dieing on the 18th.'

Corkery looked taken aback and slightly suspicious, but nodded and said goodnight; she left muttering something about me spending too much time with Professor Trelawny.

I laid back down, now even angrier than before. So much had been going on that I seemed to have forgotten that tomorrow was the 18th of November. My stupid, stupid, STUPID sixteenth birthday.

* * *

'HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!'

My eyelids flickered open, desperately wishing there wasn't so much bright light pouring in from the window a few beds down. I groaned and rolled over, pulling my white sheet up over my head. Too early… must sleep… much too early…

'Go away,' I mumbled. 

I smiled slightly, not hearing a response. I was thinking how good a morning it was going to be if the person waking me up didn't pursue their task when I felt someone _get_ inside my bed with me. I nearly jumped out of my skin and turned over to see who the intruder was.

James Potter grinned at me from underneath the covers.

'What the hell do you think you're doing in bed with me?!' I hissed. 'Are you bloody blotto?'

'Well if _you_ aren't getting up, I'm certainly not going down to breakfast myself,' he said, crossing his arms over his chest in a determined manner.

'But that still doesn't explain what YOU'RE DOING!'

'I'm lying in bed with you,' he smirked.

'GET OUT!' I shrieked.

Oi, where was Madam Corkery when you need her?

James seemed to have been reading my thoughts, for next he said, 'I sent Corkery down to the kitchens. Made up some bluff about an outbreak of some sort of virus from the house-elves.'

I glared at him suspiciously. 'You certainly seemed to have thought this out. Planning to do something to me, are you?'

'Only if you want me to,' he said, grinning.

'Dream on, Potter.'

'As always, Lily.'

I rolled my eyes at him and was about to open my mouth to retort, when--

'YOO-HOO!'

I flipped the covers back as though they were on fire, and stared, dumbstruck, at the forms of Liz, Sirius, Remus, and Peter in the doorway of the Hospital Wing--all whom were beaming.

'Hey guys!' said James gleefully, as if it was everyday that his friends barged in while he was in bed with the girl he "loved."

'Hi,' said Sirius, while they all moved towards the bed. 'So… have a fun night?'

'SIRIUS!' I screamed.

'Gee, Sirius, didn't your mum ever tell you not to provoke a dragon?' Liz muttered.

I breathed deeply out of my nose and when I felt I was calm enough, I turned to them and said, '_I_ spend the night in this bed by _my_self. It isn't _my_ fault that Mr Potter decided to join me this morning.'

'Well, _Miss Evans_,' said Remus mockingly; I glared at him, but he smiled charmingly, 'we came up here to wish a happy 16th birthday, but seeing as you are already quite _busy_, we'll just be going and talk to you later. See you in class!'

They ran out of there before I could do anything (like, perhaps murder, which I was presently very willing to do) and I turned to scowl so vilely at James that even he cowered. I turned to look at the bedside clock; it was only seven. I still had another half-hour of sleep before I needed to get up.

I laid back down with a sigh, wondering how on earth I could force myself back to sleep. James seemed to think this as a welcome, because he laid down beside me.

'Uh…hello?!' I said loudly. 'Why are you still here?'

'No reason,' he said. I made a loud noise of aggravation.

'Well could you leave?' I said, trying not to lose my patience. 'I don't want you stinking up my bed.'

In truth, he didn't smell half bad. Sort of like a wave of mint, but also… was that jam? Yes, I definitely smelled grape jam. But there was no way in hell I was about to admit _that _to him, not in a hundred years!

I was brought abruptly out of my thoughts by the sudden realization of how close James was to me; much too close for my liking. He had inched his way beside me and was…

'Are you sniffing my hair?' I asked in disbelief.

'Maybe,' he said, drawing away a bit. 'It smells like coconut.'

'Duh,' I said. 'I use coconut shampoo.' I honestly could have kicked myself for asking this next question. 'W-why? Don't you like it?' I fingered my hair nervously, wondering why I suddenly cared what James Potter thought of the smell of my hair.

He grinned at me. 'No, it's not that I don't like coconut, it's just… It doesn't fit with your hair. You have red hair, so it should be a red food. Like… like a pomegranate!'

I laughed. 'What does a pomegranate even smell like?'

He blushed and said, 'Dunno. I just couldn't think of any other red foods.'

This made me laugh even harder. 'You couldn't think of an apple or a strawberry or watermelon or cherries or--'

'Okay, okay, I get the point,' he said, smiling.

'Besides, my hair is too light for all those. It wouldn't fit.' I really did hate my hair. It was such an ugly colour! I wouldn't mind if it were darker, but it was so orangey…

'How about tropical punch?'

'Isn't that some Muggle juice flavour?'

'Maybe,' he said, shrugging. 'But it fits you.'

'Okay,' I said.

Now that he had had a decent conversation with me, probably his purpose of the day, he climbed out of bed and stood beside it.

'Um… well, I better go. I told Morgan I'd meet her for breakfast.'

I nodded silently at this. I'd forgotten all about Morgan. 

'I'll see you in class.' He turned to leave but before he was even two feet away, he came back and put a brightly wrapped package. 'Happy Birthday, by the way. I got this for you.'

'Oh,' I said, staring at the present. 'Thanks, I guess.'

'Sure.' He walked towards the door while I continued to stare.

He got me a _present_? _I_ never got him a present before. I didn't even know when his birthday was! I was starting to feel uncomfortable about all this… First we laughed in class, then we talked and laughed here, and I even took his advice. And now he was giving me presents…

'Potter!' I called at his retreating back, trying to turn my voice icy cold. It was surprisingly hard. 'Just to clear things up, I still hate you.'

He smiled and opened his mouth to say something but I stopped him by rolling my eyes.

'I know, I know,' I sighed. 'You don't even have to say it.'

I turned over in bed as he left, grinning to myself. My birthdays were usually boring and not very special, but I felt like this one would be slightly different. If James Potter could make me smile, then I _knew_ today wouldn't be half bad. 

****

A/N: Um… was this okay? I hope so. I worked really hard. I've been cursed with writer's block so it was incredibly painful, too. I rewrote it almost five times. Anyway, I hope you liked it! Please review! _-Lily-white_

****

Oh, and by the way, I am desperately running out of 'witty comments' for Lily to say! Help anyone? J Thanks!!


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